Willpower
by Willow in Winter
Summary: Can Shepard resist Thane? Probably not. Rated for language.


Author's Note: It's been a long time since I've written! Replaying the series always gets the creative juices flowing. Enjoy! As always, I own nothing.

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"So there we are," Shepard gasped for air, her sides ached from laughing. "_Flying _off this cliff in the Mako - and oh my god Thane I wish you could have seen Garrus' face, the most perfect combination of terror and nausea that I have never seen on a turian since – and I'm screaming bloody murder and holding on for dear fucking life while Wrex is having the goddamn time of his life." She wiped tears from her eyes, still chuckling at the memory. "We obviously survived. I chewed Wrex out up one side and down the other for that one once we were back on the Normandy. He just stood there with this massive grin; didn't give two shits. Ahh, that's what was great about him though."

She glanced sidelong at Thane, who was chuckling at her story. Good, she was hoping she'd be able to get him laughing. They were side by side, leaning up against the window in Life Support, gazing down at the subtle pulse and glow of the drive core. She could feel its steady hum strongly here, fluctuating rhythmically like a heartbeat. It was getting late and the ship had grown quiet, the normal bustle of crew was gone. Sarah took a sip of her tea.

"Anyway, I never let him drive again. The Mako was out of commission for at least three weeks after that stunt and that thing was a _tank_. I swear you could drop a bomb on it and it would still run."

Thane's broad white teeth flashed momentarily in his responding grin. "It sounds like you had an excellent crew, siha."

She nodded, tossing back the rest of her tea and setting the mug on the table before returning to the window. "Yeah, we had some good times in between all the Saren B.S." Her eyes softened. "I miss the old crew sometimes. I can't tell you how glad I am that I have some of them with me now."

I'm doing it again, she thought. The gut spilling. It seemed to happen a lot around Thane.

He regarded her for a moment, perfect lips curved in a soft smile. "I hope your new crew can achieve the same level of regard."

Shepard barked a laugh. "I often marvel at how I have come to work with seriously the most _random_ collection of individuals in the entire galaxy. I mean, don't get me wrong," she said, seeing Thane's raised brow. "You all are the absolute best at what you do. And with the possible exception of Miranda I _really_ like all of you. Even Jack, which constantly surprises me. But sometimes I kind of feel like Noah collecting one of each species and profession, if you understand that reference."

Thane nodded in the affirmative. "Siha you are the only one capable of bringing such a disparate group together. Without you, we would be nothing. That is what _you_ do best. You are truly one of a kind."

She shifted, slightly embarrassed. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Krios," she said sternly, but failed to hide her smile.

He smiled back. "It's not flattery if it's true. But I beg to differ. I think flattery will get me everywhere with you." He shifted closer to her; the rough timbre of his voice seemed to make her skin buzz just as much as the drive core.

She gave him a massive eye roll to cover up the giddiness that has risen up and attached itself to every nerve ending in her body in about zero-point-two seconds. The way she reacted to him, like she was sixteen with her first crush all over again, was ridiculous. But fuck was it glorious. It was getting worse too. They'd been playing this game for weeks now, subtle and sometimes blatantly obvious flirtation that had never quite gone any further. Shepard thought she would explode from it soon, and she'd be damned if he wasn't feeling the same.

"I'm immune to flattery," she said confidently, staring him down. "I'm like a monk. No earthly wants or desires. They sing songs about my willpower."

His smile evolved back into a grin. "Is that a challenge siha?"

"It's only a challenge if you have a fair chance of winning. Which you don't." She smiled demurely back.

The drell moved even closer. He leaned down slightly, his breath tickling her ear when he spoke. "What if I told you that I could tear down your willpower brick by brick until you are putty in my hands? And in that moment, you would do anything I asked of you."

Oh fuck he was good. Sarah was pretty sure he could hear her heart attempting to flee from her chest.

"I'd say you're on drell." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

He leaned back, capturing her eyes with his own, and took her hand. His cool, dry fingers started tracing nonsense patterns on her palm and wrist. "Then let me tell _you_ a story siha. Let me tell you about the first moment I knew I wanted you for my own."

Oh.

She was tempted to say, fuck it, challenge over, but all that came out was, "Okay." The fingers on her wrist were maddening.

Thane's lips curved into a sly smile. "Close your eyes siha."

She narrowed them suspiciously instead. "Why?"

"Trust me," he rumbled, standing close. "It is better for remembering."

Sarah stared up into his bottomless eyes, feeling the drive core hum in her bones and Thane's rough fingers on her own. She let her eyes drift closed.

"It was several weeks after you collected me from Illium," he started. "You were sparring with Garrus in the hangar. It was late, and I was walking the ship as I often do at that hour. I watched you from the engineering windows."

His hands had ghosted up to her forearms, stroking her skin almost absent-mindedly. She remembered that night; saw it on the back of her eyelids. Earlier that day she'd received a message from Kaidan. Seeing him on Horizon had been like a kick to the gut. What should have been a joyful reunion had quickly turned into a storm of doubts and accusations. Then he'd turned his back on her and walked out of her life when she needed him more the most. Damn him. He should have trusted her! Then, later, that message brought it all back and then some. Garrus had found her stalking the corridors that night, and dragged her down to the hangar.

"I can't tell if you're about to cry or kill something Shepard," he'd said, blue eyes sharp. "But beating the shit out of somebody can help with both for a while. Come on." He'd pushed her hard, and she had felt better for it.

Thane spoke again, and without seeing him, it was clear from his voice that he had slipped into the memory, rather than merely recounting it to her.

"She dances around her opponent on light feet, poised and ready to spring. Sweat glistens on her body, on her bare arms, the hollow of her breasts. Pale hair, the color of sun on sand, pulled back from her neck. I can see the pulse there, rapid."

His hands were at her throat now, tracing her collarbones with delicate fingers. They brushed against her earlobes, twisting strands of hair around each finger. She could feel her blood beat against his palms. Undoubtedly, he did too.

How many necks had those hands snapped? How many had hers?

"Her strikes are strong and calculated. The muscles flow under her skin. Cheeks flush, like the bloom of a sunset over water. Eyes the color of spring grass, full of purpose. The turian is stronger, but slow. She flows around him like water. Fast jab to the ribs. Dodge a swing from the right. Uppercut to the chin. The turian stumbles, falls. She laughs, smiling, wiping sweat from her brow."

His raspy voice changed again, back to the present. "I was entranced by your every move. I had never seen you so…raw. So unguarded. All the shields you erect around you every day were gone. There was no enemy. No one to impress."

Thane was so close to her now, cradling her head with one hand, running the back of the other over her cheeks, her jaw.

"I found myself jealous of Garrus then. That he was the person who could see you at your most vulnerable. I…wanted to be that person also. The one you turned to. Even Arashu had her consort."

His hands stilled.

"You are so beautiful, siha," he whispered in her ear. "A goddess made flesh."

Shepard felt as if she was in a trance, head tilted, eyes still closed. Never had someone described her with such intimacy, such attention to detail. Her throat felt tight with emotion, her senses overloading. The air was filled with the scent of leather and gun oil and tea and _Thane_. Her skin flamed under the exquisite friction of his. She felt as if the vibrations of his voice went on and on, her own cells seemed to hum to it.

"Shepard," he said, voice lower than ever.

"Yes?" she breathed, mind barely functioning. His words from earlier bubbled up from the deep, _And in that moment, you would do anything I asked of you. _

"Kiss me."

Without hesitation she leaned, and he met her, guiding her lips to his own.

Thane's lips were smooth and full and strong. They shaped around hers, leading them both through the moment. Shepard's hands, which had been paralyzed at her sides, twitched to life and wound their way up around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, their bodies flush. She sighed, lips parting against him, and he took advantage, gently sweeping his tongue against hers. He tasted like the herbs of his drink, warm and earthy. The way he plundered her mouth made her grasp his shoulders tighter for support, fingers twisting in his collar. She gasped for air when he broke away briefly to lay a line of hot kisses down the column of her throat before claiming her mouth again.

With the quiet and semi-darkness, Shepard could almost believe that they were the only two people in the galaxy. The only sounds were the soft noise of their mouths coming together, their mingling breaths and half said words, the subtle creak of leather, and the omnipresent drive core. Everything had fallen away. The Collector attacks, Cerberus, the Illusive Man, the issues of her crew and team. The Reapers. Even Kaidan was gone. All that was left was Thane.

It was perfection.

Minutes (or was it hours?) later, their fervor calmed and the heated kisses from before turned more chaste, their breath slowing. Sarah opened her eyes, dazed, as Thane pulled gently away, still holding her close. She stared into his face, trying to read his expression. Up close, the green of his skin was vibrant, the folds of his throat a rich rose color. His perfect lips curled up.

"Siha, that recollection alone could sustain me for a thousand lifetimes." His voice was soft and full of feeling.

She smiled up at him in return. "I've got to admit, having perfect memory sounds pretty awesome right about now." Her eyes searched his. "And…thank you. For seeing me." She didn't mean the spar.

He nodded once, acknowledging her sentiment, and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "Fortunately, I am available to refresh yours any time you like."

Her smile widened to a grin. "Good." She reluctantly released him, stepping back away from the window. He turned to face her, resuming his characteristic stance, back ramrod straight, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him. The small smile hadn't left his lips. His black eyes sparkled.

She was suddenly shy, and couldn't seem to stop grinning. "I should, ah, get some rest. We'll be heading down to Tuchanka tomorrow." She was backing away toward the door, unable to take her eyes off him.

He inclined his head in a sort of bow. "Indeed. Sleep well siha."

Sarah turned to leave, the door hissing open.

"And Shepard," he said, slyness in his voice.

She turned over one shoulder, brow raised in question.

"Your willpower needs work."


End file.
